


Unrequited Love

by evelynconstance



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Animals, Domestic Relationship, Enjoy!, Fluff, John Watson - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, dog sitting, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 04:33:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2415113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evelynconstance/pseuds/evelynconstance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John dog sit for Harry - fluff and feels ensue.</p>
<p>(some of the text has been cut off- like the edge- so sorry about that...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unrequited Love

Sherlock practically stomped into the living room where John was sitting at the desk typing up a case.

‘Practically’ because stomping is _so_ above Sherlock Holmes.

With an overly dramatic sigh, Sherlock flopped onto the sofa. John didn’t look up from his keyboard- intent on his ‘hunt and peck’ typing.

Tapping his feet, Sherlock sank back into the sofa still getting no reaction from John.

Frowning, Sherlock stood up and walked over to the bookcase behind John. His eyes scanned the book spines, reading the titles of the books he’d already read before. He sighed in disappointment. John still continued to type.

Sherlock eyed the morning’s paper on the desk and instead of reaching for it from the other side, leant right across John’s laptop and picked it up, very slowly. John sat back, waited for Sherlock to move and started typing again.

Sherlock’s shoulders dropped, along with the paper, and his jaw clenched. John continued to type.

Sherlock was now glaring at John, telepathically telling him how annoying he was being, threatening withdrawal of any emotion and super strops but John didn’t move a muscle.

_Well, apart from his fingers._

That was when Sherlock spotted his violin in the corner, propped up by the bookcase. He grinned a mischievous smile and walked over, picking up the wood in his hands and placing it on his shoulder.

It was good to feel the weight again, a comforting feeling that reminded him of winter nights with John; the fire burning, Christmas songs and mistletoe kisses. A faint smile graced Sherlock’s lips before he remembered why he was over here.

With a screeching of strings, Sherlock played the usual notes that he scratched out when Mycroft wouldn’t leave the flat and was being an insufferable arse.

John didn’t even flinch, just continued hitting the keys on the laptop at an agonizingly slow pace. Sherlock winced as he hit a particularly sour note and held it out- this was definitely going to get _some_ kind of attention.   

Nothing. Not one _fucking_ movement to even acknowledge Sherlock’s presence.

A deep inhale and exhale and Sherlock put down the violin and bow, walking towards the kitchen his dressing gown swishing slightly.

“You dare to try and blow up that kitchen just because you’re _‘bored’_ and I swear to god, you’ll be sleeping on the sofa for the rest of the year”

Sherlock stopped abruptly at the sudden sound of John’s voice. He grinned wickedly before turning on his heel.

John hadn’t even looked up from the computer screen but was now clicking instead of typing.

“The very fact that you’d-“

“Don’t even try and bullshit me Sherlock” John said, turning to face him. Sherlock smiled, John smirked back.

“If you’re bored, you can come out with me, we need to do some food shopping anyway”

Sherlock’s smile dropped.

John turned away from Sherlock again, closing the lid of the laptop “You can chose something from the meat counter if you’d like, or we can swing by Barts and see Molly if you’re really good”

John sounded like a parent trying to persuade a small child to do something they didn’t want to but it felt like that with Sherlock sometimes.

He walked past Sherlock “Go on, go put some clothes on- we’re going now”

Sherlock huffed, now for John really meant when Sherlock was ready but he didn’t want to give the man a choice. With raised eyebrows, a silent command to ‘move it’, Sherlock went to get changed.

The two walked to the local Tesco’s on the corner, after John shouted abuse at the self-checkout machine, Sherlock calmly paid and they left. As John had promised they stopped at Barts to collect human body parts, _how domestic_ , and took the longer, more scenic route home through the park, stopping at a perfectly placed bench for people watching.

Sherlock was unusually quiet for someone who had just acquired a new pair of knee-caps, _oh good god_ , and it was when John followed his gaze on a small Jack Russell bounding across a small green with a stick clenched in its jaw, blissfully happy.

“Are you trying to read its mind?” John asked, just as intently watching

“I don’t get them” Sherlock said, John scoffed “They love you whatever- you could leave it for a year and it would still praise the ground you walk on”

“That’s pretty much what dogs are- unrequited love”

Sherlock looked genuinely confused, the idea that something could do that seemed unfathomable. John found this amusing, seeing as Sherlock had a dog when he was younger.

“C’mon Sherlock, don’t want you blowing a fuse” John said, standing up and walking back to the flat, Sherlock in tow.

 

A few weeks later, John got a text from Harry:

 

_Busy?_

_Depends…_

_How d’you feel about dog sitting Bella?_

_I’d have to ask Sherlock_

_Does he wipe your arse too?_

_Fuck off harry, its his flat too_

_Do you want help, or not?_

_Can you dog sit or not?_

_When?_

_…Next week?_

_All week...?_

_3 weeks...?_

_I hate you_

_I’m only doing this because we’re family_

_Thank you, thank you, thank you John I love you so so so so so so much_

_Alright, jesus, don’t over do it_

_Can I drop her off on Monday?_

_Tuesday_

_Monday_

_Tuesday_

_Monday_

_Tuesday_

_Tuesday_

_So glad we agree_

_Fuck you_

 

“John, when did we get a dog?”

“Its Harry’s” He explained, putting down a bowl of dog food for the small black Labrador “She asked us if we could look after it”

“Us?”

“Me”

“Why wasn’t I informed?” Sherlock asked offended

“I’ve told you at least 5 times in the past two days, you weren’t listening”

Sherlock didn’t have a reply for this, with a frown he went back to destroying something with the blowtorch he had in his hand. John watched him, leaning against the kitchen counter, and smiled into his mug of tea trying to ignore the smell of burning flesh.

It was a rainy afternoon later that week; Sherlock had no cases, _nothing- its like they’ve given up_ , but was unusually calm. The two men had settled in the living room either side of the sofa and both with laptops on their knees. Apart from the occasional click, it was mostly tapping and the scatter of Bella’s footfalls on the half carpeted, half floorboard floor of the flat.

“John- john what’s it doing?”

John looked up from his laptop, eyes landing on the dog- spinning itself in circles in the center of the living room.

“Chasing its tail” He said, going back to the medical article on his laptop.

“I think we’re looking after Andersons’ spirit animal” Sherlock said in an almost amused tone.  

Sherlock continued to be fascinated by the dog, watching it eat, scramble about the flat, bound up and down the stairs, towards john when he came down on the morning but still seemed adamant to not walk it.

John was surprised that Sherlock seemed so distant to the dog. He’d had Redbeard when he was younger, surely he walked him, and obviously had some kind of care for the animal- so what made this dog so different? They’re all dogs, unrequited love and all…

John didn’t over-think it. He did however take pictures.

“John it’s peeing on my chair”

“Jesus Sherlock- put it outside then. Quick!” John shouted from the bedroom

“Well its finished now”

He stopped in the living room doorway, the smell of dog piss slowly diffusing, Bella wagging her tail and looking up at John with big puppy eyes. He sighed. Sherlock just sat on the chair, legs tucked under himself edging further and further away from the seeping patch of piss.

John sighed, leaning against the doorway in defeat “why didn’t you let her out?” John asked, shooing the dog away as he tried to clean up. It was no surprise when he found hydrogen peroxide in the chemical cupboard and mixed it with dishwasher liquid, why they had it was beyond him- they didn’t even have a dishwasher. Before applying this, he mixed baking soda with vinegar to get rid of the smell.

He only knew this because he read it online. Well that’s what he told himself…

“That better not be my good hydrogen peroxide” Sherlock mumbled from his seat on the sofa, John laughed at something he’d thought he’d never hear and the fact that Sherlock had the brains to move- but not put out a dog to pee.

John left the concoction to dry and kept Bella out in the hall. He waited for it to dry before getting a vacuum from Mrs. Hudson and hovering over the spot.

He stood back, hands on hips and smiled. A small sense of pride swelled in his chest.

“Don’t get too proud of yourself John, she’s about to pee in the hall”

“For fucks- Sherlock!” John shouted, springing out the room and shoving Bella down the hall and towards the front door.

Monday of the 3rd week soon came and John had just rolled out of bed, literally. Bella had been scratching and whimpering at their bedroom door for 10 minutes too long and John was getting sick of it- and was also starting to get concerned for the paint on the door.

“John” Sherlock mumbled, rolling over and tucking himself under Johns’ body. John shuffled a little before scooting closer towards Sherlock. The man was warm, apart from his feet, and his long limbs draped across Johns’ body in the most comforting way.

Just as he was starting to drift off again when Sherlock nudged him with his shoulder. “John- John- John, move. John the dog’s being annoying. John- John c’mon” he complained, rolling the man over leaning over his face.

John, still half asleep, meekly kissed him before dropping back down and rolling over. He was asleep in minutes.

Sherlock sighed, glaring at the bedroom door and through to the annoying animal that seemed to want to piss the man off.

“Stupid small brained canine” He cursed, scrambling from the warm bed and into some joggers and a jumper of John’s. Swinging the door open, the small dog bounded in. Sherlock caught the four-legged fiend and swung him in the air, with a yelp the animal wriggled as Sherlock spun round and closed the door. Dropping the dog down, from a reasonable height, he persuaded the dog back down the hallway by nudging it with his feet.

They made it to the living room- where Bella ended up stepping too far back and landing on her small butt. This small action made Sherlock laugh, for some reason, and before the grin could break out on his face he bit it back.

This stupid animal wasn’t funny, its unrequited love was unusual to Sherlock and yet he still couldn’t hold back the amused chuckle as it backed up even further while trying to sit, a sort of sitting backwards shuffle.

Bella’s head cocked to the side, her tail wagging from side to side- hitting the carpeted floor with a dull thud.

This made Sherlock start to think about Redbeard, how he always loved him for no particular reason- his unrequited love. All Sherlock did was feed him, walk him and, to a certain extent, love him.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the yelped bark of Bella. She wanted to go for a walk and was bored of waiting. Sherlock glared at her “Shut up, you’ll wake John”

Her tongue lolled and her tailed moved again- she didn’t understand.

Sherlock sighed and went to find her lead, pulled on a coat- probably John’s going by the tight fit- and motioned for the animal to follow him out the flat. She followed, bounding down the stairs behind him.

It was a cold day, and Sherlock eventually warmed to the idea of the morning walk. There weren’t any annoying pedestrians, tourists or ditzy people drifting about and it was almost calming, peaceful.

They walked around the block and through the park. Bella chased some pigeons for a while as Sherlock nursed a cup of tea from the park café before going back to the flat. It was about half 7 by the time they’d got home and John still wasn’t up. Sherlock decided this was for the best.

Bella and Sherlock continued their early morning walks without John’s knowing, sneaking out at about half 6 and getting back at 7, later if they went for a longer walk. John was always in bed whenever Sherlock got back and never raised an eyebrow when he clambered in with freezing hands and pink nosed- clinging to Johns warm body under the covers and making him squeal, in the most manly way, under the covers and wriggle him off. 

 

 

It was Sunday. There was condensation on the bedroom windows, birds chirping in the bare trees and a chilling wind blowing leaves across the pavements.

At half 6 sharp, Bella started scratching on the door. Today was the last day of John and Sherlock’s three weeks with the dog- it didn’t feel that long but Sherlock, never the less, hauled himself out of bed and towards the door.

It was the usual routine of living room tail wagging and the dogs breakfast split on the kitchen floor. Sherlock was so absorbed in his morning activities that he didn’t hear John come out of the toilet and down the hall. Just as he was about to leave the flat- he was stopped.

“Sherlock, where are you going?” John asked, eyebrow raised, smirking and wrapped in Sherlock’s dressing gown.

Bella pulled at her lead and scrambled against the hardwood floor “She kept barking”

Bella faulted at this sentence; looking almost offended that Sherlock had called her a ‘she’. He frowned at the dog before realizing what he was doing and looking back up.

“Really?”

“Yes- that is what I just said”

“Because that lead _almost_ looks like you’re about to-“

“I’m walking the dog”

John smirked, arms crossed and early morning sunlight glowing behind him.

“What?”

“You like that dog”

“Shut up John”

The door slammed, heavy footsteps and scratching claws could be heard, another door slam and then silence. John peered out the window and watched Sherlock and Bella make their way down the road – towards the still slightly foggy park and through the cold air.

 

“Unrequited love, Sherlock” he mumbled, shuffling to the kitchen for a cup of tea.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, comment any suggestions, likes, dislikes or basically anything. Please kudos!(: <3


End file.
